My name is Clothilde Schneider, though everyone calls me Hildy. I’m a social worker by trade, a profession I chose because I dealt with a lot of them while I was growing up in the foster system. I was a foster kid because my mom was murdered when I was seven and I never knew who my father was.

Neither did my mother—at least I don’t think she did, because she had a lot of men in her life, men who paid for her attentions—though I have found some letters that indicate she might have known who he was. If she did know, she never told me.

I have no kids of my own, though I wouldn’t mind having one or two if things work out. They best work out fast however, as I’m already well into my thirties. There is a detective named Bob Richmond here in Sorenson, Wisconsin who has potential as a love interest, but we’re taking things slow for now. Painfully slow. Sloth slow. I-sometimes-want-to-kick-him-in-the-butt slow.

While I have no children, I do have an adorable golden retriever named Roscoe who works as a therapy dog and helps me in my job at the local hospital. And I also have a neighbor, an eleven-old girl named P.J., a very old soul in a kid’s body. P.J. walks Roscoe for me several times a day and drops by my house at other times simply because she feels like it. I like P.J. a lot, though her bluntness and lack of awareness when it comes to social norms can make our relationship challenging.

What does a day in my life look like? In the course of my duties at the hospital I provide community resources for patients and their families, help patients with placement in rehab facilities and nursing homes if needed, provide financial assistance resources, and facilitate a grief support group that meets once a week. One of the attendees of this group, a single parent who lost her college-aged son, triggered a big change in my life recently when she announced to us that her son didn’t kill himself with an overdose of heroin as the police thought, but was murdered instead, his body staged to make it look like an accidental overdose.

She convinced me, and I set about convincing Detective Richmond. In the process, I found about the police department’s new program called Helping Hands, a program geared toward providing emotional support, resource information, and counseling to people the police encounter. I really, REALLY wanted the job, not only because it sounded intriguing and fun, but also because I figured having access to police department resources might aid me in my quest to solve my mother’s murder.

As luck would have it, I got the new job. Since the new job involves working on the night shift—at least for now—I’ve been able to keep my hospital job and start the new one. What’s more, I convinced the police chief that a therapy dog would prove highly useful for what he wants the program to accomplish, and now I get to bring Roscoe to work with me. As a bonus, I get to be involved in murder investigations, something I’m drawn to.

So, I’m balancing two jobs. Maybe one day I can get a full eight hours of sleep. Maybe one day I can solve my mother’s murder and bring her killer to justice. Maybe one day I can figure out who my father is. Maybe one day I can get Bob Richmond to move a little faster on the dating front. And maybe one day pigs will fly.


Comment below for a chance to win a print copy of Needled To Death. Giveaway ends August 2, 2019 and is limited to U.S. residents. The winner will be notified by email (so check your spam folder). Good luck everyone!


You can read more about Hildy in Needled To Death, the first book in the NEW “Helping Hands” cozy mystery series, released July 30, 2019.

As a colleague of deputy coroner Mattie Winston, social worker Clothilde “Hildy” Schneider is no stranger to unsolved murders at Sorenson General Hospital. Except this time, it’s up to her to crack the case . . .

Motivated by her own difficult past, Hildy has an unparalleled commitment to supporting troubled clients through grief and addiction in Sorenson, Wisconsin. But when a distraught group therapy member reveals disturbing details about her late son’s potential murder, Hildy goes from dedicated mental health professional to in-over-her-head amateur sleuth . . .

Alongside her loyal therapy Golden Retriever, Hildy stumbles through incriminating clues—and an unlikely partnership with Detective Bob Richmond, the irresistibly headstrong cop who shares her passion for helping others. With signs of foul play surfacing all over town, can Hildy and Detective Richmond pinpoint the deadly traits of a sharp-witted killer before another seat gets filled at grief therapy?

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About the author
Annelise Ryan is the USA Today bestselling author of the popular Mattie Winston mystery series and a pseudonym for Beth Amos, who also writes the Mack’s Bar Mystery series under the pseudonym Allyson K. Abbott. Visit Annelise on Facebook.

All comments are welcomed.